


Lets Play Doctor

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, innocent!Brendon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1684898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What, Brendon? Do you want to play truth or dare? Do you wanna play doctor?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lets Play Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> this is such a stupid fic but i love innocent!brendon too much not to post it

Brendon can admit that maybe he’s a little nervous.

 

Prior to today, he had never even stepped foot in Ryan’s house, let alone his small bedroom with band posters hanging on the walls and clothes strewn all over the floor. He nearly said no when Ryan offered for Brendon to spend the night on Saturday since his dad was gone. Brendon had to convince his parents that skipping one week of Sunday service wasn’t going to send him to Hell, and had to deal with even his own bouts of guilt.

 

He had started to get to know Ryan slowly, talking idly to each other before and after practices, or waiting for Brent to tune his bass, or for Spencer to fix his snare drum. When Ryan had offered, Brendon thought he might have been joking at first, that he would never invite a loser like Brendon to his house, but nonetheless, here Brendon was, waiting for Ryan to tell him where to sit down.

 

“Sorry,” Ryan mumbles, collapsing onto his unmade bed. “It’s kind of messy.”

 

Brendon chuckles nervously and says, “No problem.”

 

Ryan raises an eyebrow at Brendon, but doesn’t say anything else on the matter. “So,” he says softly. “What do you want to do?”

 

“Anything’s fine,” Brendon replies automatically, playing the role of the kind guest. He’s only been trained by his parents to act this way since he was a kid.

 

Ryan seems a little put off by this, but eventually says, “Okay, then lets watch Fight Club.”  


Brendon’s never seen the movie before—obviously—but he still enjoys it, mentally trying to piece everything together. Ryan seems less interested, fidgeting with his sleeves and picking at the dead skin from the callouses on his fingers. Brendon feels bad, like he’s boring Ryan, so he tries to look less interested, like it’s not killing him to know what the hell is going on.

 

“We could play a game,” Brendon says once he’s positive that Ryan’s definitely bored.

 

Ryan’s eyes look to Brendon’s slowly, looking amused, and he repeats the younger boy, “Game? What kind of game?”

 

Brendon didn’t think this far ahead. “Um, I don’t know. Just something…”

 

“What, Brendon? Do you want to play truth or dare? Do you wanna play doctor?”

 

“What’s ‘doctor’?” Brendon asks. He knows what truth or dare is, having spent many occasions playing very cautious versions of it at bible camp, but for some reason he has no idea what Ryan means by “doctor.”

 

“You honestly don’t know what that means?” Ryan asks with a playful smile on his lips. “You couldn’t take a guess?”

 

“Um.” Brendon feels like this is some kind of test. “We could play it, whatever it is, and I can find out.”

 

Ryan gives Brendon a slow look and then says, “Alright, Brendon.” And then, “I’ll play doctor. You patient. Get on the floor, on your back.”

 

With Ryan’s eyes on him the entire time, Brendon lies down on the floor, carefully moving over some of Ryan’s clothes and a few books. He stares up at the ceiling in confusion and waits for some kind of explanation. The only one he gets is Ryan’s cold hand on his chest, flat over his heart.

  
“I’m Doctor Ryan. How are you feeling today, Brendon?”

 

Brendon can’t even help to burst out into nervous giggles, one of his hands coming up to cover his mouth. “Good. I guess.” He had figured there was more to this game than just literally pretending to be doctor and patient, but Ryan seems to be taking this seriously. Brendon only briefly wonders if Ryan is messing with him.

 

“Hm,” Ryan hums thoughtfully, removing his hand from Brendon’s chest. “Looks like we’ll just do the normal check-up, then.”   


Brendon smiles like an idiot as Ryan mimes writing things down on a clipboard, and then Ryan picks up Brendon’s right arm and moves it up and down, Brendon letting his limb move freely. Suddenly, though, Ryan makes a quick motion, basically slapping Brendon with his own hand.

 

Ryan snickers, drops his arm, and then pretends to write something down again. “All in check,” he mumbles. “Now, I need you to take off your shirt.

 

Brendon stills, the smile slipping off his face. “What?” he asks uncomfortably.

 

“Standard procedure,” Ryan says, his fingers now playing with the hem of Brendon’s shirt, grazing the skin right above his jeans. Brendon feels like there’s no other choice but to let Ryan pull it off, Brendon sitting up just a little so it slide over his back and then over his head, and then it’s gone and Brendon feels strangely naked.

 

Ryan puts a hand over his heart again, making Brendon gasp at the temperature differences. Brendon prays that Ryan can’t feel how hard his heart is beating, but Ryan just nods like he’s impressed. He then touches Brendon’s belly button tentatively and asks, “How does that feel?”

 

“How does it…” Brendon trails on, not even sure how to answer it.

 

“How about this?” Ryan then touches Brendon’s nipple, moves his dainty fingers over it teasingly slow.

 

“Ryan,” Brendon breathes out awkwardly, because the thought of getting a boner right now definitely isn’t something Brendon wants. It’s just, he’s never been touched, by anyone, so it feels like his mind is spinning, that he _needs_ Ryan’s fingers. Brendon still finds himself whispering, “Maybe we shouldn’t…”  


“We have to finish the exam,” Ryan says indignantly. “Your pants…”

 

Brendon really shouldn’t, but he ends up hastily pushing away his jeans, his dick thinking before his brain. Ryan smirks as he helps Brendon, his fingers now playing with the elastic of his boxers.

 

“So, um,” Ryan mutters, looking dazed.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Brendon hopes that was what Ryan was looking for and he didn’t just give consent to Ryan for nothing. Sure enough, though, Ryan starts to pull down his boxers, his semi-hard dick snagging on the material. He successfully gets them off without actually touching Brendon, and he’s simultaneously grateful and sad about that.

 

“Sit up,” Ryan says quietly. He sounds cautious. Brendon does so, and anxiously looks around, feeling exposed. “Jerk off.”

 

“What?” he splutters out. “Why can’t—“  


“I’m the doctor and I want you to jerk off in front of me,” Ryan shrugs.

 

Brendon’s eyes flicker closed for a few moments. This seems crazy. The thought of Ryan actually watching him only makes him harder, but yet Brendon feels like it’s the stupidest idea ever. Slowly, eyes still closed, his right hand comes up to his mouth so that he can lick across the skin of his palm. He feels silly doing it, but he knows Ryan does it too.

 

When his hand finally, _finally_ , wraps around his dick, he shifts a little, letting out a gasp. He still can’t open up his eyes, scared to see what Ryan’s reaction is. He spreads the pre-come around on his head, holding in a desperate noise, and then starts to pump up and down.

 

“Fuck,” he hears Ryan mutter. “ _Brendon_.”

 

Hearing his name out of Ryan’s mouth, almost like praise, makes him only speed up his hand, twisting a little on the upstroke. He’s getting off to this, knowing that Ryan is right there, just watching Brendon jerk off, and he doesn’t even need to imagine some scenario in his head like usual.

 

“Open your eyes.”

 

Brendon does it, can’t even help it. He instantly catches Ryan’s eyes and stays there. Ryan’s mouth is open just a little, giving off the illusion that actually is into this as much as Brendon is, and when Brendon finally cracks and moans low in his throat, he watches Ryan palm at his own erection. Brendon kind of wants to help him out with that, but he doesn’t even know where to start, so instead he watches Ryan undo his pants and shove his hand down into his boxers.

 

“Close,” Brendon gasps out, licking his lips quickly. He’s consumed with the look that Ryan gives him as he arches his hips forward awkwardly.

 

Then, Ryan slips his hand out of his pants and goes, “Can I give you a blowjob?”  


Brendon feels numb for a second or two, his fist completely stopping. He just nods, unable to get any actual words out of his mouth.

 

“I’ve never done this before,” Ryan admits.

 

His hands feel electric as one rests on Brendon’s hip, and the other carefully wrap around the base of his cock. Ryan scrunches down and then his mouth is only centimeters from Brendon’s hard-on. He breathes out a jagged breath, one that Brendon _feels_ , and then goes for it. His mouth is incredibly hot and delicious as it sucks on his head. His hand feels a little too tight, like he’s nervous and not even thinking about it, but when his mouth goes further, tongue sliding against a vein that protrudes, Brendon lets out a groan.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters. He’s not even thinking anything else. His mind is completely composed of fuckfuck _fuck_.

 

Ryan picks up a steady rhythm, mouth and hand moving in tandem. Brendon doesn’t understand how we went sixteen years without knowing what this felt like, or even how they ended up here, but he doesn’t dwindle on it. He can literally see when Ryan mouth hollows, and the feeling is intense. He’s unsure if he’s allowed to, but one hand slowly creeps down to slide into Ryan’s hair, gripping the strands lightly.

 

After a particularly good swipe of Ryan’s tongue, Brendon unconsciously tugs on Ryan’s hair. Brendon’s about to apologize, or at least try to, but Ryan just moans, the sound vibrating over Brendon’s dick. This is it for Brendon, and he lets go, coming down Ryan’s throat. He figures he would have—should have, really—warned Ryan first but he was too caught up.

 

“God,” Ryan says when he pulls back. He doesn’t seem to mind he had to swallow Brendon’s come and just gives him a long look.

 

Even through his hazy post-coital mess, he realizes Ryan’s cock is still straining against the material of his jeans, and Brendon is quick to help him out, taking off his shirt and pants in less than a minute. Brendon’s hesitant for a moment, and just looks down at Ryan’s dick. It’s completely hard, resting against his stomach, the pre-come glistening.

 

Brendon leans forward, hand finally touching Ryan, and his mouth awkwardly hitting his lips. They struggle at first to find a proper fit, but they finally find it, their lips meshing together. Brendon’s never really realized he wanted to kiss Ryan until now, and the feeling of his lips makes him feel like an idiot for never realizing it.

 

His fist works over Ryan’s dick, the hesitancy gone. Ryan pushes his tongue into Brendon’s mouth, and they both instantly push closer to each other. Brendon’s about to offer a blowjob to Ryan in return, but he comes then, the liquid feeling hot and sticky on his hand.

 

Ryan’s nearly shaking when he pulls back, completely out of breath and gorgeous, and oh, _fuck_ , what did they just do?

 

“Brendon,” Ryan says, looking worried. “I’m sorry if I—“

 

“No,” he replies quickly, shaking his head. “No, that was…”

 

Brendon’s not sure how to finish it properly and give it justice, but they both exchange lazy grins and it seems close enough.

 

“Is that really what it means to play doctor?” Brendon asks.

 

Ryan just laughs.

 

 


End file.
